A Vampire's Promise Read Online Free PDF

right about that. The lighting here was nonexistent. I had parked beneath the only functioning pole in the entire lot, but the illumination it put forth was about as strong as the night-light in my bathroom. And just as effective.
    Then, as if to illustrate his point, one of the good ol’ boys stumbled out of the bar. How he made it down the three steps off the porch without falling over was a miracle in itself. Having reached the bottom, the drunk turned and leered at me. At least I think that’s what he was doing, but he could just as easily have been trying to work out why he was now outside the bar. Still, I could tell from the way he screwed up his face that he wanted to say something. Probably proclaim himself the best thing that was ever going to happen to me. Thankfully, the effort of getting his brain and mouth in sync took more skill than he currently possessed. The Viking took a step forward and the drunk swiveled his head dramatically. He hadn’t realized I wasn’t alone. With a baleful glare at my porch companion, he belched, thought better of trying to hit on me, and took off. I watched him weave his way unsteadily through the parked cars.
    â€œI hope he’s not planning on driving,” I mumbled under my breath.
    â€œHe isn’t.” The reassurance came from behind my shoulder, making me jump. I hadn’t realized the Viking had moved that close to me. “He’s just going to climb in the back of his truck and sleep it off.”
    â€œFriend of yours?” I mean, how else would he know that?
    The mane of blond hair moved across his shoulders. “No, but I saw him give his keys to the young lady behind the bar earlier.”
    My inner bitch perked up. With her assets, I’m surprised you even noticed!
    He gave me a strange look, almost as if he, too, had heard the voice in my head. I flexed my fingers, making my own set of keys jingle noisily.
    â€œMay I?”
    My would-be protector smiled as he stepped past me and stretched out his hand toward the open lot. A stranger was offering to walk me to my car, and I couldn’t help but hear the warning bells that went off in my head. He might be a deranged serial killer! Yeah, but he did have a nice smile. Of course, so did most serial killers. I think it’s some sort of prerequisite. It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse his offer, but I could definitely feel something zinging. Somehow, I didn’t think he was dangerous. Well, not in a homicidal maniac way.
    â€œThank you, I would appreciate that.” I used my best you-better-not-fuck-with-me voice as I stepped off the porch, determined to prove a point to myself, if no one else.
    We headed for the far end of the parking lot, maintaining the same distance between us. I don’t know if he had still been conversing with Miss Juicy when Jake had arrived, but part of me hoped so because then he would know I was on a first-name basis with a member of law enforcement. You can always recognize a cop, even when they’re dressed like the rest of us.
    My car, which I affectionately refer to as the POS, came off the General Motors assembly line sometime in the mid-seventies. It still ran fairly well, with help from the guys down at the local garage, and it got me pretty much wherever I wanted to go. I don’t think, however, the folks in Detroit actually have a name for the paint job it had been given by a previous owner. I know I didn’t, but Pimping-It-Purple came close.
    The good thing was, no one was ever going to steal it.
    The bad thing was, no one was ever going to steal it.
    â€œWell, here I am,” I said, in my best cheerleader imitation.
    Whatever his first impression of the POS, he did a magnificent job keeping it to himself. He walked slowly around my car, doing whatever it is guys do when they walk slowly around cars. Checking to see how much duct tape was holding it together? When he reached the front of the car, he paused,